I want him to know how it felt
by luluhrh
Summary: Neal wanted Fowler to know how it felt. Peter finally understands what he meant. Rated T for character death. Spoilers for the series finale, so don't read if you aren't there yet! Literally just sadness and angst. Peter/El.


**FIRST WHITE COLLAR FIC WHAT**

 **To all the people who have never met me: Hello! I'm Lulu. Nice to meet you.**

 **My friend got me obsessed with this series, so of course I started writing fanfic. *rolls eyes at self***

 **Anyway... The reason for this is just a little comparison I made. When Neal tries to kill Fowler, he says, "I want him to know how it felt. How _she_ felt." He wants Garrett Fowler to know death and pain because of what Neal thinks he did to Kate.**

 **Keller taunts Peter, practically telling him that he killed Neal. And Peter kills Keller. He wants him to know how it felt.**

 **This was spawned from that little plot bunny.**

 **Disclaimer:** **Um... I'm not Jeff Eastin. For one, I'm a girl. Also, I was under ten when the first episode came out in 2009. So, no.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _"I want him to know how it felt," Neal said to Peter, eyes and gun still trained on Fowler. "How_ she _felt."_

* * *

Keller has a gun, and it's pointed at a woman's head.

Peter has a gun, too, and it's pointed at Keller's head.

"Relax, relax," Keller says to his hostage, voice smarmy and _hated no one could listen to a voice like that and not hate it with every bone in their body._ "Don't come any closer, Burke. Don't do it."

"You let her go, Keller!" Peter calls, because he heard the gunshot, he has no idea what happened but he's sure Keller had something to do with it, and he'll be damned if _that bastard_ gets one more bullet out of that gun.

"I'm tired of taking orders from you," Keller announces, like he's made some big discovery. His arm is tight around the woman's throat. "So right now we're gonna do this my way. So do as I say, and she lives. We all do..." And then Peter sees something change in the other man's face and he knows he'll find out where that other bullet went and that he won't like it.

And Keller says, "Except for Caffrey."

Peter's heart skips a beat. He can hear his pulse in his ears, blood roaring through his chest and _no, not Neal._

"It might be too late for him," Keller continues, like he's commenting on the weather.

Peter's hand tenses around his gun. "What did you do?" he manages, even as the world seems to be tilting on its side.

"It's a sad day, Peter Burke," Keller replies, and he almost seems to mean it. In fact, he probably does, _that psychotic dirtbag_ probably is, in some twisted way, upset about Neal's... whatever is happening to Neal. "But if you leave now, there's still time to say good-bye," Keller finishes. His eyes, small and squinty and sharp and cold and _evil_ , carve their way into Peter's soul.

 _Time to say good-bye. Sad day. Too late._

These phrases echo through Peter's head, muffling Keller as he says, "Do the right thing. Don't do this. Do the right thing."

With a sharp movement, Keller aims at Peter.

A gun is fired.

Keller falls down after the bullet rips through his brain, in one side and out the other.

Peter knows what he's done, but he can't bring himself to think too far into it. Neal could be dead or dying. Keller shot him. Keller deserves what he's getting, and that's death by gun, because he needed to know _how it felt._

In Peter's mind's eye, Neal Caffrey is holding a gun and pointing it at Garrett Fowler. _"_ _I want him to know how it felt,"_ he's saying, and Peter can't see his eyes but he knows that they're filled with tears because Neal thinks that this is the man who killed Kate. _"_ _How_ she _felt."_ Peter had never understood this sentiment, because what was the point of revenge? Justice was better. Justice was good.

But now he knows. He knows because he's pulled the trigger and killed a man, but he doesn't care that he's ended a life because Keller got what was coming to him.

No, it's worse: he does care. He's _proud_.

Then he sees Neal on the gurney, being loaded into the ambulance, and that's all that matters. Keller's corpse fades from his mind.

"Move, move," he says urgently, pushing his way to Neal's side, ignoring the words of an EMT. "We're gonna get you out of this," he says firmly, trying not to look at the red stain that has soaked through Neal's designer shirt ( _man he's going to bitch about that I hope he does Neal please be there in the going to happen future_ ).

"I don't think so," Neal replies, and even though he's pale and his eyes are dim he looks so calm, so accepting that Peter wants to shake him and yell, _No! Shut up! There's always a way for you! Cowboy up, Caffrey!_

But all he can manage is a weak "Don't- don't say that."

Neal's pale blue eyes seem clouded and vacant until they focus on Peter with remarkable intensity. "You're the only one who saw good in me," he says, voice soft and matter-of-fact.

"Stop it, Neal," Peter commands, because this sounds like a good-bye and _dammit there will be no good-byes!_

"You're my best friend," Neal says.

Peter can only stare, eyes wide with shock, because _no, Mozzie's your best friend, not me, I'm your handler, Neal, I catch you and I can't be your best friend, you can't say that because then I'll know that you're my best friend and this is already too much you have to stay alive Neal stay stay stay stay stay-_

But the ambulance is already gone.

* * *

 _Neal Caffrey is dead._

This is all Peter can think for hours. It will be the only thing he speaks of for a week, when he speaks at all. When he convinces Mozzie, when he calls Elizabeth, then the office, and June. He digs through his phone for Sara's number and tells her, too. The world has to know that it has lost a remarkable man.

Then he'll sit at his dining table, dry-eyed, having cried himself out at the hospital. And he'll listen to his wife's sobs and watch as specters dance around the room- Neal on the stairs, Neal on the couch, Neal petting Satchmo, Neal sitting at the very table Peter is at. He's smiling, always smiling that infuriating conman grin that makes the ladies fall at his feet and creates trust out of thin air, and all Peter wants to do is punch it off his face because if he could it would mean that Neal was really there, alive and bemoaning the bruise forming on his perfect jaw.

He should have been there- _a few seconds earlier and I might have/could have/would have_ -

Peter closes his eyes and wonders how and when the grief goes away.

* * *

It will stay in the back of his head for months. The words will exist, and he will too, because what else can he do?

It won't get easier. He's starting to see it never does, not for any of them. Not him, not Mozzie, not El, not June, not Sara. It's still there, just under the surface, raw and harsh and unforgiving.

But it doesn't really get harder, either.

It only seems to get easier. In reality, they're just getting better at hiding it.

Slowly, they bury it, like they buried Neal's coffin in the earth. No one asks about the circles under their eyes, but everyone comments on how much less tired they're looking when they finally fade away. No one mentions late nights in the office, but an early start home is to be congratulated.

The mourners march on in the funeral parade that will last for the rest of their lifetimes.

* * *

Slowly, the eyes in Peter's mind fade away. It's just Neal's face around the office, and that smile, but the precise shade of blue is harder to recall.

He wants to run and look at a picture, refresh his memory, but he resists the urge. _It will be okay. It doesn't matter. I won't forget him. It will be fine._

He's not wrong. He will never forget Neal Caffrey.

He'll just bury him deeper.

* * *

When his son is born and his wife is holding him in her arms, Peter will look at his boy's blue eyes- El's beautiful blue eyes on _their son_ \- and he'll remember, suddenly, another pair of blue eyes (the precise shade clear once more), different because they're a slightly deeper hue and they're older and have seen so much of the world and have experienced so much pain and loss. He'll remember how it felt to see red stains in a white shirt and the overwhelming notion of having _let his friend down._ He'll realize that all they are doing is failing him, over and over and over again. Killing his memory, burying it deeper, making Neal Caffrey the man who is decomposing in the depths of his friends' minds. It's not fair. It's not what Neal deserves.

What he deserves is another chance. The chance he was almost given so many times, but never quite grasped.

And Peter Burke, staring at his reasons for living, will make a decision.

He failed Neal Caffrey.

He will _not_ fail Neal Burke.

* * *

 **... So? What did you think?**

 **RFF and let me know! (Review/Follow/Favorite) Actually, don't follow. This is a oneshot.**

 **The word of the day is EXONERATE! Ooh, I know this one! Sort of. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that I like this word! Look it up if you don't know it and want to know it.**

 **Love ya! lulu**


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